


The Gift of the Magi

by masked



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dean and Cas being dorks, Destiel Advent Calendar 2013, Established Relationship, Fluff, Holidays, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:08:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/masked/pseuds/masked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel wants to buy a nice Christmas present for Dean, but he doesn't have enough to afford anything actually nice. He does, however, have a pair of wings with feathers one would kill for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gift of the Magi

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Destiel Advent Calender 2013](http://destieladventcalendar.tumblr.com)

He sighed as he played with the coins in his hand. Castiel counted again.

1 gold and 13 silver pieces. That was all he had saved up after making sure all the bills were paid. Even with an evenly split bills between him and Dean, his current job didn't earn enough to spare much after their monthly rents and the utilities on top of groceries. 2 of the silver pieces were in fact a sum of 20 bronze pieces Castiel had managed to save after months of scraping change from here and there, bargaining and haggling for the prices with the butcher and the grocer until Dean's cheeks burned with shame and pulled him away for the sake of the pitiful individuals confronted by Castiel's nerve-ending stare.

It was Christmas eve, and Castiel could do nothing but sit on his couch and play with the tip of his right wing as he stared at the money scattered on their coffee table. He couldn't possibly prepare a nice Christmas present for Dean with only this much. 

There had to be _something_ he could do. 

His hands stilled on his feathers. He slowly rose from the couch and headed to the washroom where a small mirror resided. Castiel stared at the pair of luscious black wings which sprouted from his back.

As poor as they were, there were two possessions both Castiel and Dean were immensely proud of. 

One was Dean's pile of book collection handed down all the way from his grandfather. Both of Dean's grandfathers were important figures in the hunters' society, one a Men of Letters and the other a skilled hunter. Henry Winchester's books and knowledge went to Dean's younger brother Sam, but the diary of the infamous hunter Samuel Colt and all the precious books owned by Samuel Campbell went to Dean. 

The other was Castiel's wings. They were well taken care of, his wings. They were the indication of Castiel's mental health, reflecting all the love he had received from Dean with its luscious and sleek black feathers. Even amongst the angels, Castiel's wings were considered rare and beautiful with the way they gleamed in shades of rainbow against the sunlight. It wasn't too common that an angel chose a human as their mate, a hunter no less, but one glance at his healthy, well-groomed wings and everyone would understand the state of their marriage.

The tips of Castiel's beautiful wings almost touched the ground, almost like a precious cape. He drank in the sight of them in all of their magnificent glory in front of the mirror for the last time as he ruffled and flapped them a little. 

He heaved a big breath and took one last look at them before he put his tan overcoat on. He took flight and landed with a flutter in front of the sign that read: "Mr. Crowley. Hair and All the Other Good Stuff." His chest tightened at the sight but took a step forward nonetheless. No going back now.

Crowley barely looked up from the magazine he was occupying, both of his feet on top of his desk. Castiel cleared his throat and Crowley glanced up with a raise of his eyebrow.

"Do you buy feathers?" Castiel asked.

Crowley studied Castiel for a moment. A pause. "I do, depending on what you're offering." He stated, folding his magazine. "Let's see them."

Castiel shrugged off his overcoat, revealing his giant black wings. Crowley stood from his seat and circled around him, assessing the feathers with trained eyes. Castiel stretched his wings so Crowley could have a better look.

"How about twenty gold for your down?" Crowley finally offered.

Castiel nodded without much hesitations. 

The next two hours were spent walking up and down the streets, ripping stores apart for Dean's present with the newly earned money. 

He found it, at last. There was nothing like it anywhere else in any other stores. It was a small elegant black oak bookcase, chaste in design and holding up its value with quality alone instead of with superficial ornamentation. It was just like Dean with its simplicity and its quiet, intricate and graceful carvings that one wouldn't notice right away unless they inspected closer, each and every one of them with a different story. It was worthy of the books handed down by Samuel Campbell, and certainly worthy of Samuel Colt's diary. 

Dean hid it well, but Castiel knew he was sheepish over not being able to afford a proper bookshelf, let alone an apartment big enough to fit everything in. With the bookcase to display the books, maybe Dean will be able to have company over now without being embarrassed over the books stacked on the corner of his study, poorly treated despite their value. 

After handing over exactly 21 gold pieces for the bookcase, Castiel hurried home vibrating with excitement and hid it behind the couch in the living room. He spread his wings open in front of the mirror and mournfully glared at the patches of missing down feathers.

He glanced at the bookcase and back to his wings. "What was I supposed to do with only 1 gold and 13 silvers?" he asked defiantly to his reflection.

At 7 o'clock, Castiel was done baking the apple cinnamon pie when he heard the front door open. Panic flared and selling his down feather for money suddenly seemed like the stupidest idea Castiel had ever mustered up as his blood ran cold. His once gorgeous, proud wings were now a poor excuse for wings with its uneven, ugly feather distribution.

_Please don't let him hate me._

Dean stepped into the living and blinked at the sight of Castiel's wings, tattered and bare in patches. He stopped at the entrance with his eyes fixed on Castiel with an expression he couldn't read and it terrified him. Dean didn't seem angry or sad, not surprised but not disapproval, nor was it horror or anything else Castiel had prepared himself for. 

Castiel stared back, unable to move from the couch with thousands of words cramped at the base of his throat, yet none of them good enough to explain himself. His wings fluttered restlessly as he became more and more self-conscious under Dean's stare.

"What the hell happened to your wings, Cas?" Dean finally asked, as if he didn't have the full grasp on the situation. 

Castiel gathered his senses again at the words. "I sold some of my feathers." He swallowed, his throat clicking too loudly.

Dean looked around the room dumbly, eyes roaming for the possibly hidden feathers. "You sold your feathers?" he echoed intelligently. 

"They'll grow back."

A pause.

"Why did you sell your feathers?" Dean finally asked with a frown. 

"I..." his eyes shot over to where the present was hidden. Dean followed his gaze, and looked behind the couch.

He pulled out the bookcase with wide eyes, dumbfounded by the sight. "What-"

"It's Christmas eve." Castiel replied, clenching his fists. This was a terrible idea, it but it didn't matter now. His feathers will grow back and he knew once Dean was out of this trance he would appreciate the present. 

That's all that mattered.

"Are you meaning to tell me you sold your feathers for this?"

"You'll have a place for your books now." Castiel said defensively.

To Castiel's utmost surprise, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and started chuckling. "Dean?" Castiel called in confusion.

Dean let out an amused snort and pulled Castiel into a hug. Castiel blinked, utterly confused.

Dean shook his head with a little smile playing on his lips as he pulled away, and walked out the room. Castiel stood in the living room, trying to piece together what exactly happened when Dean walked back inside with a packaged wrapped in simple white wrappers. Wordlessly, he handed it to Castiel, who stared at the box.

He took the wrapping off and revealed a...

"'Preening Kit'?" Cas read the loopy golden letters written across the cover of the box.

Dean rubbed his neck in embarrassment. "You're always going on about not being able to reach your back and, uh, I know excessive oil on your feathers can be really bad for your wings so I can't help you preen most times so I figured..." he trailed off and gestured at the box. "It's supposed to contain a whole bunch of stuff, brush for wings included. I can... help you preen now?" he finished with a wince, a question for permission.

Castiel could hardly contain the thrumming happiness that coursed through his veins. "Thank you, Dean." He replied softly, already looking forward to the days when they could groom his wings together. 

"My feathers will grow back in time." He promised with a smile. Dean grinned back. "I'll help you with your books now. Let's bring the present to your room."

Dean's grin faltered. "Yeah, about that."

Castiel stilled in his motion of picking the bookcase off the floor. He watched as Dean shifted his gaze from the floor to the ceiling and finally directed to Castiel. 

Dean cleared his throat. "I, uh, may have sold the books to buy you that." He mushed the words together quickly with a nervous chuckle, pointing at the kit held in Castiel's hand.

Castiel stared dumbly at Dean, processing this new information. "Oh." He let out. "You sold your hunting books?"

Dean shrugged. "I can always buy more books. It's okay."

"You... sold Samuel Colt's diary?" _For him?_

Dean scratched his head with a flush. "Well, okay, that one might not be as easy to come across again, but Cas-"

Castiel cut him off with a gentle kiss, unable to express his gratitude any other way. 

"Cas, I-" Dean pulled away just enough away to breathe out, "I copied all the stuff inside the diary so I still have a replica so it's really okay-"

"You sold _Samuel Colt's real diary_ for me, Dean." Castiel replied with another peck. 

"And you sold your feathers for me." Dean said, biting Castiel's lower lip. He could feel Dean's smile against his lips. "We are one hell of a pair, Cas."

Castiel understood why Dean was laughing before now, and hummed in amusement in agreement. Dean's hands settled comfortably against Castiel's hips and they stayed that way for a while, kissing in the living room. When they finally pulled apart, Castiel smiled sweetly at Dean's flushed face. "Merry Christmas, Dean."

Dean chuckled. "Merry Christmas to you too, Cas." He said, landing a kiss on Castiel's nose. "Is that pie I smell?"

The hunter and the angel sacrificed something they held dear that day, but received something much more cherished and precious in return, the greatest treasure under their roof.

**Author's Note:**

> Based/Inspired by [The Gift of the Magi](http://www.online-literature.com/donne/1014/) by O. Henry
> 
> Happy holidays everyone!!


End file.
